


Drowning

by gayeggyolk



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Dream SMP spoliers, Drowning, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, ExileInnit, Gen, George Sapnap and Bad are mentioned, Ghostbur shows up at the end, Graphic Description, Other, Rated teen for language and heavy topics, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayeggyolk/pseuds/gayeggyolk
Summary: Before he could think, he tilted his head up to face Dream’s crude, disturbing mask.“Dream, I feel like I’m drowning.”The silence that followed was deadly.-Or, a short story based off my theory that Tommy kept waking up in the ocean during his time in exile because Dream was trying to drown him.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 8
Kudos: 222





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> Everything that happens takes place before Tommy leaves Dream and goes to Technoblade's house. Also, every relationship is strictly platonic. If I see comments about shipping I will stomp you to death with my hooves. Enjoy!

As the sun sunk slowly below the horizon, an eerie quiet descended upon the land. The trees stood still, as if they were afraid to move. They felt a looming sense of dread creeping ever closer.

Tommy, on the other hand, paced across the beach feverishly. Shallow breaths huffed from his lips, attempting to calm the boy by providing a steady rhythm. But Tommy hardly heard them over the insufferable song conjured by his own mind. The song of a thousand familiar voices screaming all at once in his head. 

_Nobody wants you home._

_Nobody cares about you._

_Nobody —_

“Tommy.”

A chilling voice cut his thoughts off. Dream. Dream cared about him...right?

“You alright? You’ve been pacing the beach for a while now.”

So he did care. 

Tommy’s lips tightened, afraid to answer. In truth, he wanted to tell Dream everything. He was practically a life raft for the boy now. But if he shared too much, let his thoughts selfishly flood everywhere, he could break their fragile, freakish bond of trust. 

However, his desperation outweighed his anxiety. Carefully, Tommy conjured a safe response. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he sputtered, waving his hands a little too frantically. “Just feeling a little down is all.”

“Oh?”

 _“Oh”? What’s that supposed to mean?_

“Yeah,” he replied, staring intently at Dream’s busted up boots. “Just feeling a little homesick, I guess.”

“Oh, I get it.”

_Get what? Does he know how I’m feeling?_

“...Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dream parroted. “I know it sucks that Tubbo exiled you.”

_Way to hit me where it hurts, bastard._

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed. He kicked the sand, desperate to spill out all his rage and grief at that moment. But he restrained himself. “I miss him. It gets lonely out here.”

A pause. 

“I understand.”

_No, you don’t._

Before he could think, he tilted his head up to face Dream’s crude, disturbing mask. 

“Dream, I feel like I’m drowning.”

The silence that followed was deadly.

Tommy wished Dream would stop wearing the stupid mask; he could never read the demigod’s expression. All he ever saw were two hellish black eyes staring into his soul with an equally hellish smile to match. In the daytime, they looked less intimidating; but now, they burned into his retinas. Tommy swallowed, but hardly felt any spit. Sweat trickled down his neck. He trembled with regret.

His shaking shoulders were suddenly settled by a firm grasp. He looked up to find Dream a lot closer than before. Whether that comforted him or unsettled him was strangely uncertain.

“Tommy, it’s okay.” 

Tommy clearly did not believe him.

Dream’s grip softened, along with his voice.

“I know it’s been scary and rough out here, but you don’t have to be afraid. You’ve got me.”

Tommy let out a breath he had no idea he was holding. This seemed to calm Dream as well.

“If you say so.”

“I know so. I’m practically a god, remember?”

His response brought a halfhearted chuckle out of the boy.

“Now get some sleep,” Dream said, letting go of Tommy’s shoulder. “You’ll never survive if you’re tired.”

That was true. He needed to be as alert as possible when dealing with Dream, especially in the wild.

“Alright,” he sighed. “...Thanks, Dream.”

“You’re welcome.”

With that, Tommy returned to his little tent, not bothering to tell Dream goodnight.

Hours passed. Tommy could hardly keep his eyes shut, though it was not entirely his mind keeping him awake this time. He felt like someone was watching him, besides the monsters that lurked under the trees. Something much more sinister. And real. He tossed and turned relentlessly, trying to hide from the nightmarish beings that infested his imagination. A smiling man aiming an axe at his head. A demon sucking the air from his lungs. A siren calling for him to swim out to sea and never return. Tommy would reflexively reach for some kind of weapon to defend himself only to face the emptiness of his tent each time. 

Eventually, exhaustion overcame his apprehension. After all, Dream was with him. He could handle a stalker on his own. Satisfied with this assertion, Tommy allowed himself to finally fall asleep.

~

Dream both loved and hated the night. 

On one hand, it gave him a strange sort of thrill. When he hunted, monsters bowed before him. No creature could ever match his strength. Each kill gifted him a rush of sadistic adrenaline that he could never get during the day. There were too many eyes watching him then, eyes that judged his every move. But during the night, he could embrace the god living inside him. He felt dangerous. 

But he also felt alone. The only company around right now was his mind, a far deadlier place than the night. In those quiet moments of loneliness, it infected him with something he truly hated: fear. Fear that he would run out of luck. Fear that he would be killed. Fear that he was somehow in the wrong.

Dream shook his head, as if to swat away his buzzing thoughts. Even if he was in the wrong, he was still the ruler of this land. His powers allowed him to wipe out anyone who dared challenge him. After all, morals held nothing against raw, godlike power.

Yet he could not help but wonder if Tommy knew. Why else would he talk about drowning? Tommy was not weak. If he found out, he could actually kill the demigod. However, Tommy was still a child. Traumatized by war and banishment, yet innocent enough to manipulate. Dream was his only confidant now. He had made sure of this. Tommy trusted him. He had no need to worry; the boy probably suspected nothing.

Somehow, though, he still took ages to fall asleep. Only when the moon was nearing the horizon did Dream stop hearing the rustling of sheets. He sighed, half in relief and half in exasperation. He would have been rid of the boy days ago had he not been wracked with paranoia every night. No matter. There was still time if he moved quickly enough. 

Like a spider approaching its prey caught in a web of string, Dream slowly crawled across the grass. His usually bright green hoodie now looked dark and devious in the shadows. Once he reached the entrance of the tent, he rose up with terrifying grace. Fortunately, the entrance was a mere two woolen walls held up by a fence post that left an open doorway. It was as if the boy wanted something to kill him. 

Silently, he creeped his way over to Tommy. It was a sorry sight. The boy was curled up in a fetal position, entangled in his sheets. He looked so helpless; it was hard to believe this child scared the man. But Dream knew the fury that hid behind those tired eyes. 

He scooped Tommy into his arms, keeping him wrapped in his blanket to prevent him from feeling the cold. After confirming that he was still asleep, Dream carried him outside to a boat resting on the beach. Before getting in, he looked back into the forest to make sure Ghostbur had not returned. Supposedly, he had gone to gather materials for Tommy’s base. Though, knowing him, he probably got distracted looking for blue or something. Once he knew the coast was clear, Dream carefully entered the boat.

The ocean lapped ominously around his oars as Dream rowed farther and farther from land. He had limited time and could feel the pressure kicking in. Even the wind howled at him to hurry. Or perhaps to turn back. Once he felt that he had rowed out far enough, he turned to the sleeping boy.

For a moment, Dream hesitated. Whatever humanity he had left struck his heart. It was ridiculous, really. He had seen him like this multiple times already. But tonight, as he watched him breathe, the boy’s words rang in his ears. 

_It gets lonely out here._

Though the demigod would never admit it, Tommy was right. Out here, he felt lonelier than ever. Nobody was left to give him attention. Now, he only heard whispers of shame from the wind. And the laughter of his once friends. He looked up at the starless sky and reminisced about the nights when he, George, Sapnap, and Bad would tell silly stories and talk about life. Back when his relationships were solid. But, naturally, he had fucked up. His lips trembled slightly.

Maybe he should be the one to drown.

He hated it—him and Tommy, rocking in the same boat. Two wild young men betrayed by everyone they loved, now floating in an ocean of doubt. 

But Tommy was no god. Tommy would never understand the responsibility of ruling an entire world filled with delinquents. The struggle of establishing control, of maintaining control. Because Tommy was a child. An immature, volatile, violent child.

Nevertheless, he was still a threat. And as the god of this land, Dream needed to eliminate any threat that made its presence known. So, with a quiet sigh, he lifted Tommy out of his blanket and over the water. When he saw that he had not stirred, he released him into the dark depths below.

Dream could not help but watch the boy sink sadly to the bottom, his tiny fingers reaching towards him. But before Dream could feel any regret, he noticed the sky turning pink. Quickly, he grabbed his oars and rushed back to the beach. 

As his boots hit the sand, Dream gazed at the sunrise looming over the ocean. It was, admittedly, a pretty sight. 

_At least Tommy will see something nice before he dies._

As the sun rose, Dream could only hope that his plan worked this time. For both his sake and Tommy’s.

~

Tommy was dreaming of the bench when he felt it. 

It was a happier time, then. Full of bees and laughter and Tubbo. 

Tubbo. The boy sat next to him, no scars in sight, giving him a smile that made his heart ache. 

His prized discs played their music merrily. There were no demigods to take them away here. 

There were no demigods to take him away here.

But then the music faded, becoming muffled. Like he was listening from underwater. And he felt a fiery pain in his chest. And he grabbed his throat as he gasped for suddenly nonexistent air. And he heard a voice shouting in his ear...was it Tubbo? 

_Wake up._

_Wake up._

_Wake —_

He awoke to see water surrounding him. It filled his nostrils, his mouth, his lungs. 

_Oh my god I’m drowning._

Instinctively, Tommy flailed his arms and legs and reached out his hand in hopes that someone would grab it and save him. 

But nobody came.

The panic subsided, and Tommy felt his body go limp in defeat. His eyes slowly shut as darkness clouded his vision.

_It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy._

No. It would not end like this.

With a sudden burst of energy, perhaps out of determination or desperation, Tommy forced his eyes open and swam upward with all his might. It burned, his whole body burned, but his will to survive burned brighter. 

Miraculously, he reached the surface. After taking a much-needed lungful of air, Tommy succumbed to a violent, uncontrollable coughing fit. He could barely watch the salty water spew out of his mouth. Eventually, he managed to find the beach, despite his burning eyes and water-logged throat. 

He barely made it two steps before sinking into the sand. His face was damp, sand sticking to its mixture of both water and tears. In a desperate act of survival, he vomited all over himself. Submerged in a puddle of tears and ocean water and vomit, Tommy choked back the urge to throw himself back into the water and let it take him. Take him to a place where he was clean and safe and happy. Anywhere but here. But instead, he fell victim to his hammering thoughts.

Why did he keep waking up in the ocean? Why did nobody help him? Why did he save himself?

Trembling, Tommy covered his face with his hands. This was it. He was completely alone. The world wanted him dead, and nobody was going to help him. He wanted to scream, but all he could muster was a pitiful tune of hiccups, sobs, and coughs.

However, at the sound of footsteps, tension ripped through his body, and Tommy swallowed his sad song. He looked up and felt himself tremble all over again. Dream.

“Tommy! What the hell happened?”

The demigod sounded strangely angry, or at least surprised. 

Tommy wanted to answer truthfully this time, but the water trickling down his skin prevented him from thinking clearly. He felt like it was caressing him, beckoning him to the ocean. To Death.  
He opened his mouth, only for him to whimper. 

If Tommy could see himself right now, he would want Mother Nature to kill him. Here he was, a fighter, trembling before a demigod, covered in water and vomit. 

But suddenly, he felt a hand caress his cheek. He looked up to see himself face to face with Dream’s mask. Somehow, despite its unsettling nature, it comforted him. Dream said nothing, but Tommy understood the gesture anyway. With no dignity left, he collapsed into Dream’s arms, now loudly sobbing. 

“There, there,” he heard, and that only made him cry harder. He felt like a baby being pacified by its mother. Troublesome, yet powerless against the world. Always crying about something, anything. He sniffled. Dream simply petted his hair in response. 

“It’s okay,” he said.

_No, it’s not._

He had to know.

“I think someone’s trying to kill me, Dream.”

A pause. 

“Why?”

Tommy gulped, saltwater burning his throat.

“I keep waking up in the ocean.” 

_No turning back now._

Dream did not respond. He stopped stroking Tommy’s head. Tommy looked up again, expecting to see him angry. But he looked pensive.

Eventually, he spoke.

“Maybe someone’s been following us.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. He should have known. All of L’manburg hated him now, of course they would send an assassin after him.

But Tubbo would never want him to die...right? 

He remembered the day he was officially exiled. How Tubbo had laughed during the announcement. How could he laugh knowing that Tommy could die out there? Or maybe that was his plan all along. The thought hurt far more than drowning.

Dream seemed to notice Tommy’s distress. He pulled the boy closer, as if to comfort him. But his grasp was tight, preventing Tommy from escaping. With nowhere else to go, Tommy leaned into Dream’s chest and chuckled weakly.

“Guess they really do want me gone, huh?”

Another pause.

“They don’t care about you, Tommy.”

Tommy did not expect such an indelicate response. Dream did not even attempt to comfort him. But the demigod was right. If they did care, they would have saved him by now.

Tommy felt Dream pet his hair again.

Dream cared. At least enough to comfort him. And at this point, that was enough for the boy. 

“It’s okay,” he said, looking down at him. “I’m your friend, Tommy. I’ll protect you.”

And, for once, Tommy believed him. 

Maybe it was the lack of oxygen messing up his brain, but the boy could not find himself to be cautious around the demigod anymore. Everything hurt. His head, his throat, his heart. At least Dream relieved him of that pain, just a little.

What else could he do?

With a faint smile, he finally met Dream’s face again.

“Thank you, Dream.”

One last pause.

“Of course.”

Tommy sighed, wiping the remaining tears off his cheeks. No more crying. He had to be stronger than ever now that Dream had seen him like this. If things went south, he needed to prove that he could still defend himself against the demigod.

“Now go clean up,” Dream said. “You look disgusting.”

Oh, right. He had forgotten about the vomit.

He laughed, genuinely. “Yeah, you’re right. I might throw up again ‘cause of the smell.”

Dream wheezed in return. “Please don’t.”

Tommy chuckled. 

“No promises.”

~

Later, after finally scrubbing off all the vomit from his clothes, Tommy walked out of his tent to find Ghostbur giving Dream an amusingly large pile of various items. No wonder he never returned last night.

Upon hearing the boy’s footsteps, both turned to greet him.

“Hello, Tommy!”

“Hey, Tommy,” Dream said. He then gestured at the pile. “Guess we’re gonna be expanding your base today.”

Tommy smiled. He could handle that. 

Ghostbur ran up to Tommy, clearly excited. “Shall we get started?”

“You guys go ahead,” Tommy said. “I’ll catch up.”

Nodding, Ghostbur turned back to the pile and gathered all the wood he could carry. He hummed a tuneless, but happy, melody as he went to work. Dream eventually followed him.

Once they left, Tommy looked out at the ocean. It was eerily quiet now, like it knew something that he did not. But he no longer cared. With a sigh, he turned away and started walking to his base.

Who cares if he was stuck with an all-powerful demigod? As long as he remained careful, he would stay alive. It did not matter how harshly Dream treated him.

It was better than drowning.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my dear friend Kuma for helping me with this fic! She's an amazing writer and editor. Go follow her at @a-arvensis on tumblr! Also, if you liked this fic, you can follow my tumblr @gayeggyolk and request me to write more mcyt content! I would love to hear from you :) Thank you for reading!


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